


Inseam

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mirrors, Smut, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t take it off.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inseam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therumjournals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/gifts).



The hotel door bangs open so hard it leaves a small dent in the wall.  Or maybe the dent was already there, whatever.  Neither of them cares enough to check; they barely remember to close the door behind them so anyone wandering the hallways won’t get a free show.

“Fuck,” Chris moans into Zach’s mouth.  “ _Fuck_ , you look good in a suit.”

Zach grins, then bites at Chris’ lower lip.  “Yeah?”

“Oh god.  Could hardly keep it together out there.  You look fucking _edible_.”

His suits are exquisite, each one tailored to fit him perfectly.  Italian design, imported cloth – the best of the best.  Zach fails to mention that he hates the damn things.  He feels like a fucking Ken doll, in among all the other nice little Ken dolls on the red carpet.  The suits remind him of church, of funerals, of every goddamned public function where he’s supposed to play nice and play straight.  If he had his way, he’d never have to wear them at all.

But Chris loves them.  Or at least he loves them on Zach, if the way his fingers are currently fastened around Zach’s lapels is any indication.  Zach chuckles.  “Gonna have to let go if you want me to take it off.”

Chris’ eyes go wide.  “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t take it off.”  Chris has finally let go and stepped back just enough to start tearing off his own clothes.  “Keep it on while you fuck me.”

Zach immediately opens his mouth to say what a bad idea it is – even if they don’t get lube and spunk everywhere, his clothes are going to get wrinkled all to hell – but manages to stop himself just in time, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.  Chris is down to his boxers, which are already tented with his arousal, so fuck the wrinkles.  If Chris Pine wants to get fucked by Zach wearing a suit, then Chris Pine is gonna get fucked by Zach wearing a suit.

The boxers go flying and Chris is looking around and frowning in concentration before his eyes light up and he drags Zach to the bathroom.  He’s got a travel-size bottle of lube and a condom out of his shower kit before Zach can even ask, and then he’s bent low over the sink, his ass in the air, and oh, okay.  This could work.

His reflection grins up at Zach in the mirror, and Zach smiles back, all teeth.  He swats Chris’ upturned ass, then tugs his own tie loose.  “This what you want, Christopher?  Want me to fuck you over the sink while you watch?”

Chris nods furiously.  “Do it _hard_.”

Zach laughs, smoothing his hand up and down the muscular plane of Chris’ back.  He really is gorgeous.  They’d had a good, casual thing going during filming, and for the life of him, Zach can’t remember why they stopped.  It was always fun.  But now they’ve got weeks in hotel rooms all over the world ahead of them, and Zach has every intention of fucking Chris on at least four continents.

Chris wriggles impatiently under Zach’s hands, rubbing his bare ass against the crotch of Zach’s pants, and Zach grinds against him, enjoying the friction even through two layers of clothing.  But dry humping is only good for so long, and finally Zach has to push Chris away long enough to unzip and pull himself out of his underwear to put the condom on.  As he dumps lube into his hand and rubs it on himself, he says, “Not gonna stretch you.”

It makes Chris moan and reach down to jerk himself.  “Do it.”

Zach’s pants are still up around his waist as he kicks Chris’ legs to spread further and grips his cock to push in.  Zach goes slow, but Chris whines at the burn, knuckles turning white as he tries to push his fingers straight through the mirror.  It’s hard to look away from Chris’ face, but Zach wants to watch his cock slowly disappear into Chris’ body, enveloped inch by inch in that searing, clutching heat.  Finally, he’s in so deep that Chris has to be able to feel the teeth Zach’s open zipper and his belt buckle caught between them, pressed into the skin of his ass.

He stays still as long as he can, until Chris starts rocking back and forth to try to get him to move.  Even then, Zach counts to ten before he starts to withdraw.  He gets a good grip on Chris’ hips and then thrusts back in, hard, shoving Chris forward across the sink.  He’s got one hand on the white porcelain and one still braced on the mirror, and Zach watches his triceps flex every time his hips snap forward and Chris has to try to keep his head from colliding with the reflective surface.

Meanwhile, Chris is watching him intently, mouth wide open and panting.  “ _Unnnh_ , yeah, just like that.  So fucking hot,” he grunts.  “Faster, c’mon.”

With the shirt and the suit jacket still on, Zach is already starting to sweat.  He glances in the mirror and hardly recognizes himself – his face is pink with exertion and his hair is starting to fall in his eyes.  With his tie undone but still on and the sweat dripping down his neck as he licks his lips, he looks absolutely depraved, the jacket flapping a little with every snap of his hips.  Maybe it’s weirdly narcissistic, but he’s kind of turning himself on.

Chris sees it all in the mirror and laughs wickedly.  “Fuck yeah, Zach, you’re gorgeous like this.  C’mon, _fuck_ , fuck me harder, faster, _anything_.”

Then it’s Zach’s turn to laugh as he thrusts steadily but shallowly.  “Anything, huh?”

Chris moans and shoves back onto Zach’s cock.  “Anything that keeps that huge dick in me.  Come _on_ , fucking _do_ it.  Make me scream.”

“So demanding,” Zach tuts, but he starts to speed up, much to Chris’ very vocal delight.  He slaps Chris’ ass again and Chris practically whimpers.  He isn’t touching his cock, which is rubbing against the porcelain of the countertop with every thrust.

Zach reaches down to get a hand around him when Chris stammers, “N-not yet.”

Zach’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Not yet?”

“I think—” Chris gasps.  “I think I can come like this.  If you just…”  He pushes up on his toes and drops his upper body until his face is nearly level with the sink.  Zach shoves into him again and he yelps, his body jerking as Zach fucks right across his sweet spot.  “Yeah, fuck, right there, yes yes _yes_.”

Zach shifts his grip to hold more of Chris’ weight up and watches him, completely fascinated.  He’s never seen anyone come untouched outside of a porno, but he can see Chris’ spine start to flex as he curls in on himself, the way Zach remembers him doing when he’s close.

“Just a little more, _nnnnnnh_ , come on, almost there,” he wails, and Zach pistons his hips as hard as he can, his whole body quaking with the effort.  His eyes slip back down to watch his cock pump in and out of Chris’ wet, swollen hole until Chris moans, “Look at me.  In the mirror, Zach, fucking _look_ at me.”

Zach’s head snaps up to see Chris’ eyes wider and darker than he’s ever seen them.  “God, yeah, Zach, gonna make me do it.  Gonna – _ah_ – come without a hand on me, you’re that fucking hot.”  After that, Chris’ eyes start to glaze over and his words slur together as Zach pistons into him relentlessly, Chris’ body winding tighter and tighter until he throws back his head and howls Zach’s name.  Zach has the momentary regret that he can’t see Chris’ cock from this angle, but then Chris jerks and shoots so hard that a few droplets of cum splatter the mirror and Zach is suddenly flung hard over the edge, eyes slamming shut and spine curling with the force of it.

When he comes to, he’s bent heavily over Chris’ back, lips mouthing at the sweat on the nape of Chris’ neck.  Chris’ head is cushioned on his arm and he’s mumbling something.

“Zach?”

“Mmm?”

“Couldja get the fuck offa me?”

“In a minute.”

“Not a _suggestion_ , asshole.”

Zach groans as he straightens up, body still a little sex-drunk.  “I’m gonna ignore that, seeing as I just made you shoot across the fucking room.”

They both wince as Zach pulls out.  He has to shuffle over to the trash can to dispose of the condom because at some point his pants fell around his ankles.  He looks in the mirror and immediately regrets it – in the last minute he’s gone from suit-wearing sex god to sweaty pantsless guy with some incredibly problematic stains.

But Chris is still starry-eyed and grinning, casually sauntering up to him to finally slide the jacket off his shoulders and unbutton his shirt, kissing the skin of Zach’s chest as it’s exposed.  “How many more premieres do we have?”

Zach ticks them off on his fingers where they rest against Chris’ hip.  “Auckland, Paris, Berlin, Kuwait…”

“Fuck.  I’m not going to survive this, am I?”

“ _You’re_ not?” Zach scoffs.  “We keep going through suits like this, I’m going to be completely naked by the time we get to Europe.”

“Huh-uh,” Chris hums, sinking his teeth lightly into a nipple and making Zach jump.  “Hotel does overnight dry cleaning.  You can do wicked things to me in every suit you brought and still be fresh as a daisy tomorrow morning.”

Well, _every_ suit is a bit of an exaggeration, but the dry cleaning bill does make it into the triple digits.


End file.
